Red dirt on the porch Bell already rang They put his name in the river River didn't bring it back I kept the chair where he sat I kept the coat on the nail County said it was finished County didn't look well Don't sing him pretty Don't dress the box He went down dirty That's the part that talks Southern death Comes walking, not running Southern death Knows the road to my house Banjo in the ditch Blood on the fret Southern death Ain't asked me yet Church kept the doors Wouldn't keep the man Preacher counted quiet I counted the hands One on the bottle One on the gun Neither one holy Both of them done Don't sing him pretty Don't dress the box He went down dirty That's the part that talks Southern death Com
